“But Gus and Arnie didn’t always get along, right?” Quinn asked.
“Who told you that?” Shamus asked, frowning. “They got along fine except for...” He stopped and lowered his head to avoid meeting their eyes. “It was just the one time.”
“They had a fight?” Quinn asked.
“Yeah, sort of a continuing argument,” Shamus said. “But that can’t have anything to do with this. Gus has a temper on him, sure, but it’s because he cares so much about the music. He wants everything just right. All musicians hear things just a little differently or have their own ideas about how an arrangement should sound.”
“But something is wrong. Something is bothering you about him, right?” Danni asked.
“I promise we’ll never say that you were the one who felt something was off,” Quinn said. “If he’s innocent, we’ll find that out, too. Why do you think he could be doing this?”
“I don’t!” Shamus protested.
“Then what is it?” Quinn asked.
Shamus looked down, shaking his head. “Jessica,” he said quietly.
“What about her?” Quinn asked, and added, “Please, Shamus, if the man is innocent, we have to start looking elsewhere. Tell us what you know.”
Shamus sighed. “Gus and Arnie fought over Jessica. Gus saw how they flirted, and he told Arnie that if they wanted to be together, they’d better both get new jobs. He didn’t have any right to say it, but the thing is, he was into Jessica, too, and he could have made things unpleasant for them if he wanted to. And then, the morning after the Watsons’ house was broken into...”
“What, Shamus? For the love of God, just tell us,” Quinn said.
“He came here—to my house. He was wound tight, upset. He had a cut on his hand. And he—he had a gun on him. He told me it was legal, and for as long as someone was running around killing musicians, he was going to carry it. He’s my friend, you know. He and Blake and I hang around together, we see each other home at the end of the night, and I’ve tried to dismiss it, but...” He paused again. “I had to talk about it. I went to confession. Me mum back in County Cork would be proud. I went to confession because I needed to talk about it, but I didn’t want to betray a friend when I still can’t believe it’s him.”
“I understand, Shamus, I do,” Danni said.
Shamus lowered his head again. “He’s my mate, my friend. But—and God help me for this—I always find a way to be dropped off first. I leave him alone with Blake.” He looked up at them. “Do it—do whatever you need to do to find out the truth.”
“Excuse me,” Quinn said. He walked into the other room, and Danni knew he was calling Larue and telling him that they needed to go ahead and pick up Gus for questioning.
“He’ll never forgive me if he finds out,” Shamus said.
Danni’s phone rang just then, saving her from having to make a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep, and she excused herself to answer it.
It was Steve, according to her caller ID.
“Hey, Steve, what’s up?” she said.
He didn’t reply and her phone went dead. She looked over at Quinn as she tried calling Steve back. He didn’t answer.
She tried to tell herself that he had butt dialed her. If he was in trouble, he would have hit 911.
But anxiety ripped through her. “Quinn, tell Larue to get to Steve’s place. Have him send the closest officer there, too, and...let’s go, okay? Shamus, thanks,” she said.
And then she and Quinn were heading out to the car.
Chapter 16
QUINN PULLED OVER to the curb just as the first patrol car arrived.
He jumped out and headed for the door, leaping up the steps leading to the house.
The door was open.
An officer came running from the patrol car. “Mr. Quinn, wait!”
But Quinn was armed and ready and through the doorway even as the officer reached him. Danni burst in behind them. “Steve!” she cried out desperately.
There was no one in the living room.
They heard a noise from the back, a scraping sound. Quinn followed it, pausing for a split second at every arch and doorway, even though he was certain the killer wasn’t there anymore.
He hurried forward, anxious to find Steve before Danni could.
He was in a back room.
He was tied to a chair, his head hanging down. Quinn feared the worst.
Trying to stop Danni was like trying to change the weather. She burst past him, sliding to her knees at Steve’s feet. “Steve!” she cried.
And Steve lifted his head, making it obvious why he didn’t reply; a kitchen towel was tied around his mouth, gagging him.
He tried to say something, but it was unintelligible.
“Hang on, we’ll get you out of this,” Danni said, searching for a way to release him.
Quinn knelt down beside her, pulling out his pocketknife. Steve had been secured to a wooden kitchen chair with a belt, two neckties and what looked like his cell phone charger. Quinn quickly ripped his way through the bindings and the gag.
“Just left...out the back,” Steve gasped.